Let Sleeping Cat’s Lie

Seated peacefully in my armchair on a lovely calm summer evening, laptop on knee, this was to be a serene thought provoking blog about a deeply philosophical subject now lost forever in the deeper recesses of my brain.

My wife, Avril – equally peacefully – was lounging, also with knee’d laptop, on the sofa to my left quietly involved in her computerised knitting.

Our home which has had unplanned bits and pieces haphazardly added over the last hundred years or so is now a long twin gabled single story cottage set in peaceful English countryside.

So just before settling to write this blog I collected a reference book from my office which is in the bedroom section down a hallway behind my living room chair. Jenny, our cat, was exceptionally sound asleep on top of her bay window chair in the office and I made a point of leaving all the internal doors open to cool the building as the day had been warm.

Ten minutes later I was in the right frame of mind and typing the foundation of the first paragraph on Word 2007.

From the direction of my office came a crashing noise. Startled, we both looked up. A furious scrabbling ensued closely proceeded by a thunderous sound best described as likened to a herd of stampeding buffalo rumbling over the prairie.

“Oh No!” Gasped Avril. “Zoomies!”

As she uttered this profound phrase a black and white hairy streak cleared the sofa right over her head and landed on another chair before rushing sideways along a wall, dropping to the floor and shooting out the open door into the dining room. Ears back and
going like the clappers the apparition cleared the room in three bounds knocking an antique clock off the chiffonier before ricocheting to the right into the kitchen. Sounds of destruction and mayhem ensued and in moments the buffalo noise resumed as the wild eyed creature did a hand brake turn round the kitchen door and pelted along the dining room floor before flashing back past me in the direction of the office.

The small china oil lamp which rested on top of a sound system speaker rocked gently to and fro and in slow motion toppled gently to the ground, the tinkle of breaking glass coming to me as the lamp’s chimney on it’s final journey caught the edge of the TV stand.

Jenny, our cat, now substantially awake was having an attack of the Zoomies!

Apparently both cats and dogs are affected by this extraordinary and fascinating to watch phenomena now and again and Zoomies is actually a widely used term. Our dear deceased
previous feline Scampy had the decency to indulge in this behaviour in the garden and would shoot round and round the large lawn like a demented greyhound chasing an invisible hare.

No gardens for Jenny though. The house is much greater fun!

More thundering footfalls and the out of control creature, using my convenient left shoulder as takeoff point this time launched herself on a long leap through into the dining room again. Zipping over the antique table top in a controlled skid she propelled herself into the kitchen where more expensive crashing sounds reached our ears.

The complete sequence was repeated two or three times surprisingly quickly then sounds of claws furiously digging gravel in the kitchen came to us as she vented her energy in her litter tray… then silence.

Two minutes later Jenny sauntered happily back into the living room, gave us searching looks as if to say, “Why’d you make all the mess then, huh?” She jumped deftly onto the
sofa, placed herself squarely on the daily newspaper, turned round, curled up and within seconds was peacefully asleep, snoring gently.

We arose and surveyed the disaster scene. A lot of picking up to be done but apart from the clock – which hadn’t worked for years — and the glass chimney, not too much damage. Absorbent granulated litter carpeted the kitchen floor so the single offering left for us in the empty tray was apparent.

Checking my office next I discovered the source of the first crash. I had left some A4 sheets with substantial hand written notes for my new Eric Beemer novel on the desk using a small aluminium oil lamp as paper weight (antique oil lamps are my business, I
repair and restore them). The lamp was on it’s side. Fuel oil had seeped all over the notes making most of them illegible! Oh! And three tall piles of books – left over remnants of a failed Amazon project – were scattered haphazardly throughout the room.

So the moral of this story? There isn’t one really apart from cat’s can be fun… and expensive… and hard work. Maybe… don’t use oil lamps as paperweights on Eric Beemer notes if your cat is prone to Zoomies…

3 Replies to “Let Sleeping Cat’s Lie”

Oscar was delighted to be able to mention Jenny and today nodded sgagey at the mention of Jenny’s zoomies as though to say “Huh, I left those behind in childhood” which by those standards must only have ended a few days ago. Oscar is 17 and still causes as much if not more mayhem than any rumbustious kitten. In fairness most of his zoomies start these days at the sound of my going “OSCAR” then he scuttles at speed to hide under my bed where I can’t reach and leaves me little gifts best kept for the litter tray. Though I deeply regret your damage it’s so nice to know I don’t suffer alone.

This story brought a huge smile to my face. My Great Dane gets the zoomies, and she too insists on expressing them inside at times. It’s a truly awe inspiring sight to see a dog that weighs well over 100 lbs leaping onto the sofa (which she’s not supposed to be on) and off immediately, then flashing from one end of the house to the other and back, jowls and ears flapping.

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Seated peacefully in my armchair on a lovely calm summer evening, laptop on knee, this was to be a serene thought provoking blog about a deeply philosophical subject now lost forever in the deeper recesses of my brain. My wife, Avril – equally peacefully – was lounging, also with knee’d laptop, on the sofa to my […]